If Only She Knew
by rainbowbrite84
Summary: I, Fleur Delacour, could have any boy I want, anything I want. But I wanted her.


I remember the time I first saw Ginny Weasley, trying to push her way through the crowd at the Tri-Wizard tournament to see if her brother was unharmed. She had been behaving much the same way I was when I had been unable to reach the bottom. I'd been thrashing and screaming in a very unladylike fashion, trying to reach my sister before it was too late. I hadn't know that they would be okay, I'd only known that the note said if we didn't make it to them in time, they would be lost from us forever.  
  
Perhaps that's when it happened, when I saw her in as much anguish as I had been. When she had been trying desperately to see if Ron was safe. She had managed to push past the crowd and was doing quite a good job of sprinting towards us, when I saw a professor from Durmstrang wave his wand. I couldn't hear what he said, but I saw Ginny's body suddenly stiffen and lock up. I saw her body fall face first on the unyielding rocky ground. I saw the look on her face, the tears running down them, right before her head met the dirt below. I saw a few people move to retrieve her, but a blonde boy, I believe he was from her school, shoved them away and went to her. For some reason a sharp stab of jealousy stabbed me, then immediately evaporated when I saw that he wasn't her lover. His malicious grin told me so, and even more the fact that he grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her back into the crowd, making sure that her face was dragging over everything.  
  
For some reason, I had this strange, almost overwhelming impulse to run to them, to hex the blonde boy, to take her in my arms and tell her everything was all right. I didn't of course, but for the rest of the day, I couldn't stop thinking of her. I was still there when she finally ran down to the trio sitting together, huddled and talking. They barely recognized her presence, so she stood there, blood dripping off her face from the gashes the rocky ground had left, still trying to see her brother. He finally noticed her when the girl, Hermione, nudged him. He asked what had happened to her face; she only said that she'd tripped. He waved it off and told her to leave; that he and his friends needed to talk in private and that she wasn't welcome. Her turned back to the other two and missed seeing her face crumple inward, missed seeing her valiantly struggle to hold tears in check. What he had done was far worse than what the blonde boy had done to her.  
  
I felt white hot rage at the Weasley boy then, that he should treat his sister so. She turned around and with her shoulders drooped forward, walked back to the castle. I wanted to run after her, to hold her, to hex her brother. So many things. I, Fleur Delacour, was feeling something very foreign. I am part Veela, yes, the rumors are quite true, I could have any boy I want, anything I want. But I wanted her.  
  
Since I couldn't openly talk to her without people noticing, I followed her instead, studying the younger girl throughout the days I was there. When the Yule Ball was not far off, I debated on whether I should ask her to go with me. I realized I was gay at that point, and here's a little known fact: quite a few Veelas turn out that way, but I had no clue of what she felt. If she even noticed me, if I tried to hint at what I felt would she reject me? Without even saying a word, the youngest of the Weasley clan had reduced me to a silly schoolgirl.  
  
Without exposing myself to her, I started anonymously sending her little trinkets. A good luck charm that I bought in Hogsmeade, (does no one else notice that these people seem to like the word 'hog'?) that looked like a phoenix with a real ruby for the body. I had it enchanted to look like it was flaming, so it would remind me more of her. Another day, I sent her a box of that Honeydukes chocolate I'd seen her eat with such flourish, even though she could rarely afford it. Yet another day, I sent her a dozen sugar quills.  
  
I sent her an actual owl one day, when it dawned on me that she didn't have one. It was a female European Eagle Owl, a magnificent creature. The shop owner in Diagon Alley told me it was the largest owl in the world, capable of taking down creatures as large as deer. Since this one was magical, it could probably take down more than that. It was perfect, its orange eyes held intelligence and it carried itself with an air of magnificence. I named her Boadicea, after the woman warrior that had lived a long time ago. When I got back to the castle, I gave her strict instructions, telling her that her owner was Ginny Weasley, and that she was not only to deliver messages for her and such, but that she was to protect the girl at all costs. Boadicea seemed well up for the challenge.  
  
I watched as Ginny mentioned to Hermione that someone was sending her things, she didn't mention Boadicea, but the older girl told her that they were probably from a boy named Neville. She tried to argue with the older girl, but she was already immersed in reading her book again. To my delight, I saw the phoenix charm hanging on a chain around her neck halfway hidden in her robes.  
  
The Yule Ball grew closer, and I grew more nervous. Her brother, Ron, presented me with the perfect opportunity to avenge Ginny when he asked me to go with him. I laughed in a patronizing way in front of everyone and called him 'cute'. His reputation with the ladies of Hogwarts wouldn't bounce back anytime soon. I'd followed him back to Harry, and heard him try to use his sister as a convenience, just then noting she was female. I was about to step out and curse him right there, but then Ginny said she had agreed to go with that klutz Neville. He had beaten me to it. Dejected, I sauntered back to my dwellings to cry on my bed.  
  
The night of the Yule Ball, I sat at the table reserved for the School Champions, ignoring my date and staring at Ginny. I saw her big clod of a date trod on her poor feet numerous times. I led my date down to the floor with me in hopes of getting closer to her. It was toward the end of the ball when I finally saw her bid Neville good night and avoid being kissed by him. When I had noted which way she had hobbled off to, I bid my own escort goodnight and followed after her.  
  
I caught up with her not long after that, and followed her up to the astronomy tower. She was sitting near the window, gazing out with a pensive look on her face. I gathered my courage, which at that moment was waning, and stepped out of the shadows and started to walk to her. I had reached her and touched her shoulder before she noticed anyone else was in the room with her.  
  
She started, and looked up at me, her eyes wide. I gulped and tried to think of something to say, anything. I saw she was still wearing the charm and I smiled in spite of the situation. "You're wearing it," I whispered. She followed my gaze to her dress robes and fingered the object. "You sent them didn't you? This, the quills, the owl. You sent all of them." I could only nod in confirmation.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Here it was, the moment I'd been eagerly anticipating, yet dreading at the same time. The three words I'd rehearsed so long in my head froze on my tongue. I'd never even talked to this girl before; I'd only known her for a short time. Yet incredibly I loved her. When I looked at her, no one else would be in the room, she was my focus. It seemed that by merely looking at her, I felt complete.  
  
"Because I love you."  
  
There, I'd said it. I saw her eyes widen with surprise and I looked at the floor, feeling a blush spread over my cheeks. I couldn't look her in the face, I didn't want to see the rejection I was sure would be there. I was aware of her standing, a few inches shorter than me, but I noticed it. I thought she would move to run out of the room and down the tower.  
  
It surprised me when I felt her fingers under my chin. Slowly she lifted my head up to meet her gaze, her eyes searching for something. Whatever she was looking for I think she found. The next thing I knew, her soft lips were touching mine. I was shocked for a moment, not expecting this. I felt her stiffen, and I immediately threw my arms around her to keep her from moving away. I kissed her back with everything I'd been feeling, hoping to convey the depth of my love for her in the kiss. Her mouth opened under mine and our tongues met and fought with each other.  
  
I moved back, until I had her pressed up against the stone wall. My hands were roaming up and down her body, needing to feel every inch of her. Her hands were buried in my hair, using it as an anchor. My hands found an opening in her gown and slipped into it, moving past the layers of clothing beneath it until they were touching bare skin. I moved my mouth away from her lips and down to her neck. She was speaking in my ear, and I couldn't make out what it was. I thought maybe she wanted to stop, so I started to disentangle my hands from her robes. She grunted and let go of my hair, grabbing my right hand and moving it down lower. Oh, that was what she meant. I was happy to oblige and moved through the robes until I found flesh. Before long she was panting, clinging to my shoulders to try and stay up.  
  
I was so focused on her, that I didn't realize she'd moved one of her hands. I didn't notice until I felt her hand pressed against me, returning the favor I was doing for her. The girl was good. It didn't take long and we came together, me hugging her hard, my face buried in her neck, she moaning my name.  
  
I am Fleur Delacour. I could have any boy I wanted. But I don't. I wanted her, and now she's mine. 


End file.
